I started my blog because I NEEDED to write. I thought I needed to write short stories and feature pieces and sappy poems, but as it turns out, I needed to release some dark memories. Putting those painful experiences on “paper” turned out to be a frightening task though. However, it was a therapeutic task that helped me move forward.
The scariest post I made was about abuse. It was a one-time physical encounter but it is something I am reminded of every day that I look in a mirror. And the day that I wrote it, the words flew out fast and furious, just like I was there. I could feel the pain, the confusion. I had a sense of danger and fear. It was almost like reliving the event in some ways, and when I hit “publish” I wondered, was this too much to share…
We cheered and ranted on at the baseball game. It was a blast. We laughed and kissed. It was a perfect day. Then, it became the worst day, and I wished I had stay home.
We left the game and went to this bar, a bar where he was a bouncer. I tried to pretend I was comfortable there, but I wasn’t. Not at all. I looked at every pretty girl and wondered, was it her he stayed out with? Was it her he flirted with? I tried to wash away my insecurities with a drink and some careless dancing. I flung myself around the dance floor, just feeling the music and…probably looking a bit foolish. I didn’t care though. I just wanted to be happy. I wanted to believe my guy was not flirting right there in front of me. So I danced. I laughed. I had the best time I could appear to have. Then I looked over and saw it.